Fears - jelly fish

Annoyances - commonly misused words

Accomplishments - Philmont

Confusions - religion

Sorrows - getting a call or a text four hours after it was sent

Dreams - Jamming with a famous musician

Idiosyncrasies - re-checking the clock because i didn't actually read it *EVERY SINGLE TIME*

Risks - via ferrada

Beloved Possessions, Now and Then - my guitar

Problems - forget sleep. I'm going to stay up all night on the internet again.

No matter whom it is that I tell, they don't get it, at least initially. "They're just so cute," they tell me, "most of them don't even sting." They ask if I had some sort of bad experience; I haven't. What I tell them about instead is one of my worst nightmares:

Imagine that you're a perfectly healthy fish, just swimming around, or maybe you're just a homunculus out to the beach in his tiny swimsuit or something, I don't care. As you submerge and the sea water clouds your eyes, you catch a vaguely shaped mass out of the corner of your eye. Seconds pass before you realize that you are entangled in the limp and fleshy tendrils of a jelly fish. You struggle but to no avail. Of course the jelly fish doesn't care, it can't even think, and that's the horrible beauty of the "animal." Since the beginning of multicellular life, the medusa has been a mindless eating machine. That's all it does. It cant think or feel or care. It has only the capacity to blindly consume all that it touches, and it excels at and one which you seem to be caught up in. As you are drawn into it's translucent digestive cavities, your last view is that of a claustrophobia inducing flesh pouch with no hope of escape. Then you die.

Although I know that will never happen to me, the fact that it happens at all is enough to give me the willies. That's my only real irrational fear, but it's a fairly pathetic one.